Gemotions

The smell of freshly cut wood wafted into Emily’s kitchen. It mingled with the scent of stale coffee and unwashed dishes, a particularly unpleasant combination. The rhythmic clang of the hammer was a hammer against her spirit. She felt a profound weariness, the kind that settled deep in the bones.

She sat at the table, staring out the window at the vibrant colors of the neighbor's project. He was so energetic, whistling as he worked. She thought of the unfinished tapestry on the floor in her living room, a representation of everything she'd stopped working on. She needed to find an inspiration again.

She reached for her phone but just as quickly set it back down. The world felt muffled, distant, and she couldn't bring herself to care.